Firm Friends
by hardboiledgregg
Summary: Jack and Miranda butt heads when it comes to a raid on a Cerberus base. A hopefully humorous little one-shot. M for Mature because Jack can be a little sweary.


**Author's note: Had the general idea for a while now, and decided to get it written as a break from the more gloomy, lonely Miranda story I have going on. This is just a one-shot - a test more than anything - written in one evening, focusing on a couple of characters with a dynamic I love and think has a lot of potential. If the reception's good I may expand on it once the Miranda story's finished.**

**Comments/feedback/criticism/poetry - all welcome!**

* * *

The former-Cerberus operative and former-Cerberus captive stood side-by-side, dumbstruck, watching as the soldier who had been perfectly lucid just seconds ago slumped backwards against the wall and slid down lazily, coming to rest like a discarded puppet. The dead man's helmeted head remained upright for a few moments before slumping under the weight.

Eventually, Jack broke the silence. "The fuck did you do?"

"Me?" asked Miranda looked at her colleague out the corner of her eye. "This is all your fault."

Jack's head turned sharply towards the former-Cerberus operative. "How'd you figure that, huh?"

"Clearly, you went too far with the bad cop routine."

"I didn't do that." Jack protested. "Hell, you'd know if I did something. It wouldn't be so clean for a start." She crouched down in front of the corpse, waving a hand in front of its face as she continued, "You just make for a lousy good cop."

Miranda tried to hide her show of offence. "Look at yourself, you couldn't exactly play the role. At least I'm ex-Cerberus."

"Exactly," remarked Jack, staring up from the floor with a derisive look in her eye. "Not forgetting that he just saw us wipe out his entire squad, and you're still holding a damn gun."

The two of them had stormed the Cerberus base so quickly and confidently, leaving everyone dead except the man collapsed in front of them. Jack was happy just to obliterate everything in their path but Miranda had been hoping to question one of them. It was so second nature to be holding a weapon that Miranda really had neglected to holster hers once the chaos had ended. Rectifying that fact, she sighed and joined Jack by the body on the floor.

"Now what's this?" Jack purred, as she reached into the soldier's belt and pulled out the shock baton. At the press of a button it hummed to life with a high-pitched crackle of electricity.

Inspecting the dead man's armour and helmet, Miranda tried to ignore her swishing the weapon about playfully. Suddenly, the corpse's left arm jolted up with a zap, startling her for a brief second before she heard Jack, cackling and slapping her thigh. Hotly, Miranda snatched the electric baton that had momentarily reanimated the corpse and tossed it away, returning to the task at hand immediately after.

"This isn't funny," Miranda said in a clipped tone as she peered into the helmet visor before searching for a way to remove it.

"Oh, but it is. Especially that look you pull. Where your face all scrunches up, a bit confused, like someone just cut the cheese." Jack caught the disgusted face Miranda was struggling to suppress and pointed. "Yeah, that's the one!"

Miranda met Jack's gaze, staring at her as if she were a child. "Do you mind?"

And so she held her tongue while Miranda found the helmet release and pulled the front section clear, accompanied by a small hiss, and then a louder one as Jack sucked air in through her teeth, recoiling at the sight. "Damn..."

The entire front of the dead soldier's face had been smeared onto the inside of the helmet with smouldering dark patches where the eyes used to be.

The former-Cerberus operative showed no surprise, having already surmised what had happened. She stood to share her verdict, while shaking her head in wry appreciation. "This is our old salarian friend's fault."

Jack knew Miranda was probably pleased with knowing a little more than she did, and rolled her eyes. "OK, I'll bite: What?"

"Ocular flash bangs. During his time on the Normandy, Professor Solus had been discussing the cyanide capsules implanted in the teeth of all Cerberus personnel. A last ditch suicide measure if captured. With his usual tendency to think aloud, addressing no one in particular, he had mentioned a better alternative." She shrugged, smiling faintly. "Not that he'd care, but he didn't quite catch all the bugs in that lab..."

"That's some real mad scientist crap, you know." A thought crossed Jack's mind. "Wait, do you have them?"

Miranda could only grimace as she knew what was coming, replying impatiently, "No."

"I don't believe you. How do you activate them? Is there a kill phrase or something?" Jack narrowed her eyes at Miranda then spoke purposefully, "Laputan machine. Flatlander woman."

"What are-"

"No, wait, I've got it." Jack's voice twisted into the worst, most exaggerated Australian accent she could muster. "I'm _sorry_, Jack. I was _wrong_ about _everything_. Cerberus really are a big load of evil _bastards_."

Miranda crossed her arms, distinctly unimpressed with the lampooning. "Are you finished?"

"But it would totally kill you to say that, wouldn't it?" smiled Jack, mischievously.

"Only because it's inaccurate."

Jack shook her head in disappointment. "Oh, cheerleader, I just don't get you. And if you keep pulling that priceless little expression, you know I'm just gonna keep this up."

"Should've known it was a mistake bringing you along," Miranda's voice had dropped a few degrees below freezing. From anyone else, it would've sounded like petulance.

"Hey now, you're the one crashing the party here. This is an Alliance clean-up operation, and you're not even an 'advisor'."

She was right. Ever since the business at Sanctuary, Miranda had thrown herself into an independent campaign against Cerberus forces. The Alliance supported her actions, even if they didn't acknowledge it publicly. Of course, they couldn't turn a blind eye when their paths crossed so explicitly.

"Shame. Someone really should advise you to keep your mouth shut," Miranda warned.

But Jack couldn't resist pushing just that little bit more. "What about the cyanide? You still got that? Go on, show me those perfect pearly whites."

"Could we concentrate on the business at hand, please?" Miranda urged, fetching the soldier's helmet front and reattaching it. "If I take this one, you go and find the least _ruined_ corpse you can and bring that."

"Why?" Now it was Jack's turn to look disgusted.

Miranda spoke as if addressing a simpleton, not far off how she viewed the psychotic biotic, "Samples for tests. If I'm going to be interrogating these troopers, I need to find a way to disable the flash bangs. Unless you'd prefer we just take the heads?"

"Alright, sheesh, I got it." Sometimes the cheerleader really could creep her out.

Jack looked back at the destruction both of them had wreaked upon the place. Among the glass and general debris, bodies were strewn about every which way, hanging over up-turned crates and desks or one another, many with gaping shotgun wounds or twisted limbs. She could easily distinguish her kills from Miranda's, who preferred to get the job done a little more cleanly. The 'least ruined corpse' remark had been a jab, though Jack could've sworn - and did, loudly - that the one lodged _in_ the ceiling was definitely not her doing.

While she searched the piles of fallen Cerberus soldiers, she called back to Miranda, currently in the process of hoisting the soldier-with-the-missing-face over her shoulder, "Hey, if you need a dentist, I know one you can trust." A second later, she broke out laughing, "I'm just messing with you. I don't trust any fucking dentists."

Miranda waited silently by the door until Jack found the most intact body she could - a twisted neck, Miranda's kill, presumably - and joined her. The former-Cerberus operative still took a moment to study the find before nodding her approval. "Good work."

_She almost sounded appreciative_, Jack thought, before replying sarcastically, "Least we didn't come away empty-handed."

"Indeed," said Miranda without a hint of irony, as they started making their exit, side-by-side.

"But I'm definitely gonna be the good cop next time."

Miranda's face scrunched up once again. _God, no!_ _There will not be a next-fucking-time_, she thought.

Jack had glanced just far enough to her side to appreciate the reaction and walked on with a satisfied smirk.


End file.
